


Nothing Forgotten

by Hootax



Category: A Way Out (Video Game), A Way Out - Fandom
Genre: AU, Alternate Ending, Cops, F/M, Jail break husbands, M/M, Police, Poly Relationships, Polyships, Romance, Spoilers, Swearing, Video & Computer Games, a way out spoilers, alternate ending au, an alternate ending we desperately need, ending AU, game level of swearing, jail break, married
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-17 18:24:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14194998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hootax/pseuds/Hootax
Summary: An alternate ending for A Way Out in which both Leo and Vincent live. Vincent incapacitates Leo, but does not kill him and Leo is taken back into police custody. Meanwhile, the death of Harvey has caused great waves in the criminal underworld and the police come up with a plan to use Leo as bait to investigate a prison with unlawful dealings in return for a severely reduced sentence. But there's a reason Mallhaven Penitentiary is referred to as Hellhaven. Vincent knows this and is willing to postpone his resignation to go undercover as a guard to protect Leo. If Leo cooperates and doesn't tear him in half, that is.





	1. Back into Custody

**Author's Note:**

> The ending to A Way Out left me crying for 3 hours and brewing up this fanfic as a way to cope with the INTENSE FEELINGS. It is as much a therapy to write for me as I hope it will be entertainment for you. 
> 
> Please note that I want to respect the fact that Leo and Vincent are both married and love their wives. I want to write this as a story with polyamorous themes. That being said, this is my first time writing poly themes, so please let me know if there is anything disrespectful. 
> 
> Tags will be updated as the story goes on.

This could have gone a _lot_ better. Vincent reloaded his ammo and flattened himself against the doorway of some conference room. This was the most screwed up game of cat and mouse he had ever played. Of course it would be with the man he was chatting with in an airplane after they survived standing back to back in the middle of a godforsaken jungle. The tables could turn in a matter of seconds and, oh Christ, they had. Vincent didn’t know why the officers didn’t at least cuff Leo before handing a gun to Vincent. All of this could have been avoided.

Now the question remained. Who was the cat and who was the mouse?

Emily should be his back-up, but she was chased out. Leo had her gun. He needed to be shut down and fast.

Despite all of this, Vincent held the wavering hope that diplomacy could win out.

“Leo, we don’t have to do this,” he shouted, keeping his voice steady.

Leo’s reply came from one of the side hallways. “Fuck you, you fucking cop!”

That was expected, but it at least allowed Vincent to pinpoint Leo’s location. Leo was right. He was an officer of the law, now. That meant staying focused and shoving down his emotions. Something in his chest was stinging and he wasn’t sure if it was nerves, an injury, or regret. Maybe even all three. Things were shit.

Leo was out for blood, which meant Vincent was a sitting duck out in the open. Stealth would be an answer. If he knew where their generators were, he could cut the power, but that might take too long. Shooting out the lights was another option, except the sound would draw Leo. A standoff was inevitable and Vincent knew it. It was like facing a wounded, cornered animal.

“Vincent! You’re a dead man! Come out and fight me!” Leo shouted.

Vincent moved into the conference room. There was a door on the other end. He could try to circle around and take Leo out from the back. He wanted to keep Leo alive if possible, but if it came to it…

“Come on, say something, you backstabbing pig!”

The door opened up to a huge window overlooking a warehouse. A series of bullets fired, leaving pockmarks in the wall beside Vincent. Shit! Leo moved fast. The warehouse it was. So much for stealth. He returned the fire as he backed out of the room. When Leo was out of sight, he turned and kicked down the door to the warehouse.

“Why are you running, you piece of shit?” Leo shouted.

Vincent didn’t stop to yell. “Leo, if I have to, I’ll take you down!”

“Sure! Come here and try! It’ll be the most honest thing you’ve done!”

They exchanged gunfire peeking out from behind boxes and machines. Hadn’t they been on the same side just that day? Vincent missed having Leo at his back. Bullets hit Vincent’s vest, surely leaving bruises underneath. Somehow, their fight took enough out of Leo to leave him winded. It occurred to him that Leo had never once questioned why a banker was so proficient with guns and hand to hand combat. Vincent saw him sink to the ground on a catwalk and ascended a set of stairs to meet him, his gun raised.

Leo watched him, his eyes dark. Vincent had never seen such a look of unrestrained hatred, at least never directed at him. His stomach knotted as he realized he would probably never see Leo’s eyes soften towards him again.

“Put the gun down,” he said, keeping his own trained on Leo’s face. It seemed to be the only way to get Leo to cooperate, right then. “It’s over.”

“You’re a disgusting pig,” Leo said, but he complied. He slowly set his gun to the side, keeping his hands in sight.

“Get up,” Vincent said.

“I trusted you.”

Vincent gritted his teeth. “Get up.”

Leo raised and, just as Vincent thought he was growing some sense, lunged forward and tackled him through a window. They were tumbling, shards of glass embedding themselves into their skin. His gun flew from his hand. He took the brunt of the landing, but Leo rolled off of him. The air had been knocked from Vincent’s lungs. He wheezed, willing himself to move. Shit, shit, shit.

Leo was lifting his bulletproof vest off. Vincent followed suit. They wouldn’t need them now. They would just get in the way.

Leo reached for him and raised his fist.

_Warming themselves by the fire Carol’s eyes over candlelight Joining arms as they climbed their way up the prison walls_

Vincent’s ears rang at the blow.

_Alex’s laugh as he caught the basketball Waking up with his head on Leo’s shoulder as they watched the moon landing Carol leaning down to kiss their baby’s head_

Leo slumped. Vincent grabbed his head and rammed his knee into Leo’s face.

_Just black out just black out Sitting side by side playing some stupid board game Laughing Trying to balance on wheelchairs_

Blood flowed from Leo’s nose. He coughed. He grabbed Vincent’s hair.

_Rough fingers dug into his skull as their lips crushed together Stubble scraping his mouth_

Moonlight glinted off the gun at the edge of the roof. Leo saw it too. There was no joy in his face, no victory. Only vengeance. That gun would be the death of Vincent if he didn’t get it first.

Running on pure survival, he rammed his elbow into Leo’s gut and got a grunt in response. He crawled forwards, using a propane tank as leverage to propel himself to the gun. His fingers wrapped around the handle. He whipped around, bringing the gun with him.

Leo was on his knees. The neck and collar of his shirt soaked from his nosebleed. His face was drained of color, eyes resigning, dazed. He wasn’t fighting anymore.

_Aim the gun. Pull the trigger._

He didn’t pull the trigger.

_Pull the fucking trigger._

He didn’t want to.

_Can’t see his dead eyes_

_Lips on his throat_

Vincent lowered the gun and pulled the trigger. The bullet tore through Leo’s thigh. Leo’s cry caught in his throat. He doubled over, clutching at the wound. His head went down.

With leverage on the step, Vincent lunged and shouted, using the last of his energy to bring the butt of the gun down on Leo’s head. Leo gave no sound, eyes rolling back. He crumpled face-forward.

Vincent sucked in a breath. His fingers fumbled for a pulse. It was there. He itched for a radio. Anything. He looked down over the edge, eyes straining through the darkness for red and blue lights.

_Gary’s glassy eyes_

“Emily! Emily!”

Her voice cut through, but it sounded distant. “Vincent!”

“Call an ambulance!”

“I did! They’re coming! Where are you?!”

Her voice was further away. He squinted as he looked for her. Why couldn’t he see? It was getting dark. A roaring filled his ears.

“The roof…The roof!”

He didn’t know if she heard him. He didn’t know if they were coming. He sank into the darkness, the only sensation being the rain on his skin. His fingers fell next to Leo’s.

* * *

Leo wanted to gnaw off the tether that bound his ankle to the hospital bed. He knew he was lucky they hadn’t tied down all of his limbs, but it made him feel like a chained up dog. That’s how they were treating him – an escaped animal. Doomed to go back to the pound.

They kept him under half of the time. He didn’t know what day it was anymore. His body ached.

They told him his nose had been broken and the bullet in his thigh had to be surgically removed. All thanks to that Piece of Shit Vincent. Damn it, he didn’t want to think about Piece of Shit Vincent right now. He wanted to think about Linda and Alex. They couldn’t visit him while he was in the hospital, but they could when he was sent back to prison. Two cops were positioned outside of his door at all times.

They gave him a book, occasionally, or a newspaper. Besides that, there wasn’t much else to do except feel sorry for himself and daydreaming about wringing Piece of Shit Vincent’s neck. If he showed his face in the hospital room, Leo decided the first thing he would do was to take the cheap glass flower vase and toss it at his face. The doctors still wouldn’t tell him where POS Vincent’s room was, or even if he was in the same hospital.

Anger was the only thing that managed to distract him from the pain, so he let it take him. His throat filled with it. A fucking cop. The entire time. And Leo could bet POS Vincent just _loved_ prying Leo’s story out of him, getting him to offer up his secrets, some stuff he had only ever trusted to Linda. He couldn’t _wait_ to lead Leo back to the police on a leash after using him as a body shield to get Harvey. Who else was in on it? The Warden? The Chief of Police? Emily? Did they get Linda to play a part too?

Fuck, no, his baby girl wouldn’t do that to him. They were against life together, ride or die.

Just like he once thought he and Vincent were.

One night he woke from a restless sleep. His leg stung and he reached for the nurses' bell to ring it so he could be given some more morphine. Painkillers made him quiet, both in pain and in mind. The rage quieted to a dull thrum. He dozed in a haze of warmth that left him hollow. His eyes opened at some unknown hour in the morning, with moonlight streaming in through the windows. For once, he felt numb more than anything else.

What he wouldn’t give to feel someone next to him, right then. He needed to not be alone for a while. The walls of the hospital were sterile and distant. He wanted Linda. He wanted…

Well, if it kept him warm, he would even take Vincent. Not Vincent the cop. Vincent the banker. The one who struggled his way through piano chords while Leo plucked out a sad tune on the banjo. The one who told him about meeting a bear while he went camping with his uncle. He supposed that Vincent had been an illusion, which was a pity. He liked that Vincent. He trusted him.

Leo pressed a hand into his forehead and sank deeper into the mattress. It wasn’t lost on him, that night on the roof, that he’d been spared. He wondered why. Leo thought there was a good chance he might kill Vincent if they saw each other next. It wasn’t like Leo would have shown him any mercy had their positions been reversed. So why do it?

Was he complaining? Maybe, maybe not. He couldn’t think. For better or worse, they were both alive. That was nothing he could change hopped up on morphine in the hospital.

* * *

The Black Orlov glittered in the fluorescent light on the table in front of Vincent. He found he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. It was the only interesting thing in a bleached interrogation room. The Chief of Police, James, settled himself down in a chair across the table and peered at Vincent neutrally. There was no big celebration for this mission.

“Congratulations on your release from the hospital,” he said. “What do the doctors say?”

Vincent’s face was stained an ugly yellow on his cheek from a fading bruise. “Scrapes and bumps. I’ll live.”

“Good to hear it. We need you to answer some questions,” James said. “Is Harvey dead?”

“Floating in a pool of his own blood,” Vincent said. “If you don’t know that, I’m guessing you're not the ones who recovered his body.”

James shifted in his seat. “Interpol’s been dying for a chance to raid his hotel, but from the outside he was clean. Your shoot-out gave them a reason.”

“So? What’d they find?”

“No bodies. A lot of blood, a bunch of grenade debris, but no bodies,” James said.

Vincent’s brow furrowed. He should have done more to Harvey when he had the chance; made _absolutely sure_ he was dead. Somehow the thought of a missing body wasn’t assuring. What if he’d risen like the walking dead in a black and white movie, ready to come after him?

James seemed to read his thoughts. “I wouldn’t worry. From the looks of the rise of criminal activity, I’d say he’s dead.”

“Care to explain? My head’s a bit foggy. I’ve been in a hospital,” Vincent said.

“You’re a smart man, Vincent. You familiar with Greek mythology?” James said. When Vincent frowned up at him, he continued, “The legend of the Hydra, to be specific. Big water snake or...water dragon, I guess. You cut off one head and three more grow in its place. That’s what’s happening now. Harvey cast a long shadow. Now that he’s gone, you’ve got drug lords and crime cartels vying for his place. They’ve just been itching for someone to take him out. Considering we haven’t heard of Harvey making a grand return from the dead, I’d say your plan worked.”

Vincent’s shoulders slouched a little. “Terrific.”

He thought of Gary and wondered if he was happy right now, wherever he was. All Vincent felt was sick. James paused to take a drink of coffee as they sat in silence. Finally, Vincent broke it.

“How’s Leo?” he said, quietly.

James kept his tone neutral. “He’s recovering. The leg surgery was successful. You didn’t hit the femoral artery. He also suffered a minor concussion, but the doctor says there shouldn’t be any brain damage.”

Vincent let out a slow breath.

“Once he’s sufficiently recovered, he’ll be taken to the infirmary in Mallhaven,” James said.

Vincent’s eyebrow rose. “Mallhaven Penitentiary?”

“Is there another Mallhaven?” James said.

“Why all the way there? Can’t he just go to California State?” Vincent said. One of his hands clenched the fabric of his pants. Mallhaven had its fair share of stories, the least of which involved drugs passing hands from guard to prisoner. Not to mention the beatings and sexual assault. Did Leo’s actions really merit going to a place like that?

Now James was watching him closely. “...There’s a reason I’m filling you in on all this. By rights, this shouldn’t be your business anymore. If I was a smart man, I wouldn’t have let you talk me in to putting you in a cell next to Caruso in the first place.”

“Out with it,” Vincent said. “I’m getting tired of you talking in circles. And don’t think I forgot that I said I wanted Leo’s sentence to be reduced. Why are we sending him to Hellhaven?”

James took an infuriatingly long drink of coffee and then spoke, “One of the Hydra’s heads grew right there in Mallhaven.”

“Well, gee, I could have told you that,” Vincent said. “What does that have to do with…”

“In specific, it grew in a high place,” James said. “So high we haven’t been able to touch it without solid evidence.”

It took Vincent a second to speculate. “The Warden?”

“...That’s the story.”

“So you’re using him as what, a plant? You want to provoke a reaction?” Vincent said. His voice rose a tad. “This is highly unethical.”

“Only more slightly than your plan, if you think about it,” James said.

Vincent thumped his hand on the table. “They’ll kill him!”

“It’s too late, anyway. Warden Price already accepted his records. They’re preparing room for Mr. Caruso as we speak,” James said.

In other words, Price knew exactly the gift he was receiving and was eager for it. The man who helped kill Harvey. Would he want to kill him to show dominance? No, that was too quick. Maybe he wanted to keep Leo whole, like a trophy. Look who finally put a muzzle on a lion.

“I don’t agree with this,” Vincent said.

“We won’t be leaving him out in the cold. We’ll have bugs in there for ourselves, just like we do now,” James said. “If and when he gets any info, he can pass it along to them and then along to us.”

“What the hell makes you think he’ll agree to this? He just got recaptured,” Vincent said.

“Doesn’t have much of a choice, does he? We can assure him extra protection, should he cooperate,” James said.

“It’ll take more than that. He’s as stubborn as an ass. He’ll say he can take care of himself,” Vincent said.

“Well, you’ve gotten to know him, haven’t you? Surely, you can think of something to sweeten the deal,” James said.

Vincent tapped absent-mindedly on the tabletop. Of course, he could think of something Leo would want. More than anything else.

“Fine. When are you talking to him?”

“I’m going to the hospital tonight. His physician says he’s lucid and able to make decisions. Will you care to join me?” James said.

Vincent nodded, curtly. “Another thing. I’m going in with him. I’ll be one of the planted guards. I’m sure you can make that happen.”

“Aren’t you a little close to this case?”

“That didn’t stop you before. I know how Leo works. I’ll be able to keep an eye on him and for him,” Vincent said.

The James didn’t look at all surprised. “What about your resignation letter?”

Vincent thought to the letter sitting on the desk in his apartment. He let it slip months ago that he was planning to turn it in if he came out from the excursion with Harvey alive. It looked like the James hadn’t forgotten.

“...Forget it. For now, anyway,” Vincent said. He thought of Carol at home with their daughter. Carol told him she named her Julie. Julie with the little dimples and tuft of honey hair. He wanted with all his heart to hold her again, now that his arms didn’t smart every time he bumped them.

James stood up. “Alright, sounds like a plan.” He peered down at the Black Orlov. “You know, I’ve heard there’s a legend that this diamond is cursed. The Eye of the Hindu God, Brahma. A monk stole it out of greed. Since then, bad luck followed whoever stole it.”

Then, it was snatched up by Leo.

“I guess you should put it under a heavier case, then,” Vincent said. “Hydras and Eyes. What will you think of next?”

James snorted and opened the door to let Vincent out. “Why don’t we ask Caruso?”

* * *

In answer, Leo gave a resounding, “Fuck you.” Vincent half expected him to spit at the Chief’s feet. Leo hadn’t seen him yet. James told him to wait for his signal. If he had been out there, maybe Leo really would have spit.

James continued, as though he hadn’t heard. “You’re going to be transferred next Monday to the infirmary on-site to finish up your recovery.”

“They’ll cut off my damn leg!” Leo said. He was sitting up, gripping the railing of his bed in a white-knuckled grip. The guards ordinarily posted outside stood on either side of him, ready to grab him at any signs of violence.

He was a good man, Vincent reminded himself. A bit brash, but a good man. Okay, more than a little brash. It was that passion that had first drawn Vincent in.

“You’ll be monitored both within and without. If they cut off your leg, we’ll know,” James said.

“Oh, that’s _so_ fucking funny, you shithead,” Leo said. “I thought you were going to reduce my sentence? Now you’re sending me to the sin asylum?”

“Moretti and I discussed the reduction of your sentence from eight years to four as a result of your assistance bringing down Harvey,” James said. “You have three years and four months remaining.”

“Wonderful. I wonder if I’ll last that long. Hey, did it ever occur to any of you to let me have a say in where I was going?” Leo said.

“Inmates are transferred according to level of security required and facility population,” James said.

“So every maximum security prison is full except for Hellhaven, apparently?” Leo said. “Wow, I’m impressed. That’s convenient.”

“You’ll have back up. We already have guard transfers there from our federal prisons. You aren’t going in unprotected,” James said.

“They’re all probably dealers now. Don’t they make their own opium in there?” Leo said.

“Those claims are still under investigation,” James said.

“And I’m going to be part of the investigation now, got it,” Leo said. He smoothed his hands down over his hair. “This is so fucked up. Will my wife even be able to visit?”

“Visiting hours have their own guidelines, but yes. She’ll be able to see you,” the James said.

Vincent could imagine the tension in Leo’s face relaxing a little with that assurance.

“So, what do I do? Get in nice and cuddly with the Warden? Get him to tell me all his filthy secrets?” Leo said.

“You’re to observe the guards and the other inmates. If Warden Price has a personal audience with you, then you report to us what was said,” James said.

“Right. I’ll pass you a note if he makes me suck his dick,” Leo said.

Vincent shifted uncomfortably. His hands curled into fists.

“Any unlawful activity,” James said.

“I’d better have some mean back up,” Leo said. “I don’t want any puny deputies helping me if anyone gangs up on me.”

“Actually, one of the bugs who’s going in with you, you know very well, as I understand it,” James said.

“Huh...really…” Leo said, his voice thick with suspicion. Vincent didn’t want to be revealed now, not with Leo like this. Then again, when would things ever be better?

“I believe that’s all the information we have to give you at the moment. You’ll be briefed more come Monday,” James said. “Are there any other questions?”

“Yeah,” Leo said. “There’d better be something in this for me. More than extra cottony sheets, or some bullshit like that.”

It wasn’t a question, but they got the point. James was silent for a moment. Vincent glanced in to find James eyeing him. With a jerk of his head, he silently ordered Vincent to speak.

Vincent sighed. “How does freedom sound?”

“What the fuck…! Vincent?!” Leo said. Vincent heard the bed shift and the sounds of a small scuffle. He rounded the door frame and was greeted by the sight of Leo’s guards restraining him.

“Leo…”

“You’re in on this?! I’ll bet you handed my criminal records to Warden Prick yourself!” Leo was on the brink of yelling.

“Calm down.”

“No! You don’t _get_ to tell me what to do! You’re no better than the rest of these pigs in suits! 

Vincent pressed his thumb and forefinger into the bridge of his nose.

“Leo, I’m going in with you,” he said.

Leo paused his struggles and stared at Vincent for a moment. Then he barked a loud, humorless laugh. “Ohhh, damn, this is rich! What? You want to relive old times now? Sorry, they’re not putting us in the old prison. Apparently, we know how to get out of that one too well.”

Vincent could something in him deflating, but he kept himself firm. “I’ll be with the guards, not a prisoner. If anything happens to you, I’ll have more capability to respond.”

Part of Vincent hoped that this could make up for something. What that was, he had no idea. How could any of this make up for weeks of deceit? The two of them hadn’t had the chance to talk properly ever since Emily’s plane landed back in California.

Leo snorted. “Good to know.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Vincent had so much to say to Leo but he didn’t want it to be with the Chief and guards present.

James nudged him in the back. Vincent cleared his throat. “Leo...the state is finalizing its parole procedures. If you cooperate with us, we can accelerate your eligibility date.”

Leo didn’t say anything, keeping his eyes on a spot on the floor.

“You can go back to Linda and Alex,” Vincent said. “You won’t have to worry about warrants for your arrest or being followed. You just have to be compliant and check in with a parole officer. You’ll be able to…”

“Yeah, I get it. Sounds great. Whatever,” Leo said.

Vincent could take a guess as to what he was thinking. Parole would be great if he could last that long.

James spoke up, then, “Are there any other questions?”

“Can I get more morphine?”

“I’ll summon the nurse for you,” James said. “Good day, Mr. Caruso.”

James departed the room. The guards had released Leo a while before, but they still stood on either side of the bed.

“You two can get back to your posts,” Vincent said.

They glanced at each other and back at him, “But…”

“I can handle him myself. Get back to your posts,” Vincent said, with more weight. The guards shuffled outside and the door shut behind him.

It was just Vincent and Leo. Correction, them and a long stretch of silence. Leo was scowling down at his blanket. Vincent went over to the window, peering outside at the manicured lawn of the hospital. The sun was setting over a tangled copse of trees.

“The view is beautiful,” he said.

Silence.

“I gave Carol my letter. She and I had a real talk for the first time in a long time,” Vincent said. “I...wanted to thank you.”

There was a grunt of acknowledgment, then more silence.

“Leo...I’m sorry…”

He saw a hand claw into the blanket.

“Please…”

Please, what? Please talk to me? Please forgive me?

“It was...nothing personal.”

Finally, Leo spoke. “Nothing personal, huh? You kept up that charade for weeks and it was nothing personal?”

“I needed to get to Harvey. I couldn’t let him get away with killing my brother,” Vincent said. “You were the only lead I had and you wouldn’t talk.”

“So, that part of the story was true after all?” Leo said. “Shall I start listing off the other things you told me? We can sort out the truth from the lies.”

“Leo…”

“I know a good place to start,” Leo said. “How about you not having climbed up walls shoulder to shoulder with someone else. That was a lie. How about being lost in the wilderness for ten days after kayaking with your uncle? Or was that just you pitching a tent in your backyard?”

“...I only wanted you to trust me.”

“Well, I did! You got me to fucking trust you! I’ll bet you feel real good about yourself, you pig,” Leo said.

Vincent swallowed. It felt as though a lead ball had landed in his gut.

“Hey, let me ask you something,” Leo said, looking up at Vincent with blank eyes.

“...Go ahead.”

“That night in the car, you know, before we flew to Mexico...Was that part of the act too?” Leo said. “Was that to get me to trust you?”

His expression held a challenge, an accusation. It was one that Vincent didn’t know how to deal with. He took several breaths before answering.

“No.”

“Really? Because you just about had your tongue down my throat,” Leo said. “I find it hard to believe you’d kiss Carol like that.”

“Leo, enough…” Vincent said. “That wasn’t a part of the act. I promise.”

Leo still looked skeptical and that irked Vincent. “You might want to tell Carol about it, then. ‘Cause she might want to know you felt up a guy.”

“I did.”

Leo blinked and, for the first time since they spoke, look genuinely taken aback. “Oh. And she let you back inside her house?”

“You don’t know anything about my wife and me, Leo,” Vincent said.

“I guess not,” Leo said.

There was a tentative knock on the door. A nurse came in bearing a box with a syringe and morphine.

“I’ll leave you to rest. Goodnight, Leo,” Vincent said.

He made his way out of the room, but not before hearing, “Yeah...Night.”


	2. Remembering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SOOOOO MUCH for all of the encouragement and feedback you guys have given. It makes me so happy to read it. I want to reply to all of your comments but I don't want to make it seem like I'm just copying and pasting responses. I still be going back and doing some edits to chapters as feedback and criticism come in, so feel free to supply more. Nothing huge will be changed, just word usage. MY friend also told me that the Chief of Police is named James, so I'll be going back and replacing many of those 'the Chief's with 'James'. 
> 
> I might also change the timeline of when That Night in the Car happened to before they took off in the plane. That will be elaborated on later as well.
> 
> A slight warning for this chapter: There is some homophobic language in a flashback. It's nothing that the guys say to each other, though, so don't worry!

The clouds were heavy when Vincent pulled up in front of Carol's townhouse. A pile of leaves was disturbed by the breeze from his car door opening and closing. He took a breath to prepare himself and crossed the street and climbed the stairs to the front door. There was still one more thing to be done before this last mission - and by God, he was going to make sure it was the last mission. His resignation letter was now mostly finished.

His hand raised to ring the doorbell, but the sound of the doorknob turning made him pause. He stepped back as Carol opened the door. Every time he saw her in this light - in any light, really - with her hair in curls and her wine-colored eyes, he felt love pour into his heart.

"Good morning," he said.

"...I saw you pull up and was afraid the doorbell would wake the baby," Carol said.

Vincent was a touch disappointed. He wanted to see Julie again, but it was best to let her sleep for a while.

"That's okay...Can I still talk to you?" he said.

She hesitated and then gave him a nod. She let him inside and led him into the kitchen. The radio was playing a jazzy tune and a warm breeze made the curtains flutter. Vincent took a seat at the circular table while Carol made them some coffee. He admired the peace of the kitchen, then the small, porcelain chicken by his hand, then her.

When the coffee was ready, she settled in a chair across from him, keeping her eyes averted. He thanked her softly and sipped his drink.

"Didn't this song come out during our junior year?" he said.

"Mm, yes. That's right. They played it at a dance," Carol said.

"That was the year you taught me to swing," Vincent said.

A small smile formed on her lips and she drank.

"Too bad you couldn't get rid of my two left feet."

"...We had fun," she said.

He put his mug down, running his finger along the handle.

"Carol...Honey..."

How to begin? It felt like he was going back on another promise. He hadn't told her about his resignation letter, but somehow...she must have thought Gary's case would be the end of his career. But that wasn't fair to her. She'd known him for more than three decades. Sometimes it felt like he could tell what she was thinking, other times she confounded him.

"I have another case. I want to make it the last one," he said, keeping his eyes down. He could feel her gaze on him, finally.

This was what had made their marriage so tense, wasn't it? She sent him off to the dark alleyways of the city to stake-out the evil-doers while she stayed home, wondering if the next person to come to her door would be him or the Chief of Police come to tell her that her husband had been shot through the belly. Over time, the canceled dates, the tears over broken bones, and the long, sleepless nights took their toll.

"So soon?" she said.

He glanced up at her, questioningly.

"You only just got out of the hospital," she said. Vincent saw her eyes tracing the yellowed splotch on his face.

"It has to be now. Things are...chaotic," he said. He could never tell her too much of the cases, for her own safety.

And as she sighed, he knew that it was the not knowing that strained her the most. If she knew what the trouble was, she could give him advice, encouragement, comfort.

"I'm so sorry. I know I asked you to give me a second chance," he said. "I'm serious. When all this is over. I'm leaving the bureau. It's too early for me to retire, but I'll take another job. A quiet one, like..." _Banking._

"Will you at least tell me what it is?" she asked.

Vincent swallowed. "I'm going undercover in another prison." Her mouth thinned. "I'm going to watch over one of the inmates."

"I see."

"I'll be in the position of a guard. I'll be able to write to you more often. Maybe even call," he offered, hopefully.

"Who is the inmate?"

He blinked in surprise. Why was she asking that? There was no way she could connect that many pieces in so little a time, right? How could she...?

On second thought, his silence and the look on his face was probably a dead giveaway. Her eyes roved his expression.

"It's him, isn't it? Leo?" she said.

"...Yes."

They fell quiet, listening to the sound of the announcer's voice as he babbled on about politics. Vincent had been sitting in this same spot last week, asking her after Julie, giving her his letter, holding her hand. Then, he told her about Leo. And about that night in the car. And she patiently watched him as he told the story.

Because this wasn’t the first time.

Not that Vincent made it a career out of kissing people other than Carol. The root of it went back to their high school years, back when a teenage Vincent was on the baseball team and she sat on the bleachers with her friends, cheering him on. Her friends cooed to her when he stepped up to take the plate, tapping the bat against his shoe and she flipped her hair and chided them, all the while holding a secret smile. Not because they weren’t telling the truth, but because she knew more about him than they did. She knew that he blushed whenever the captain of the baseball team strode by in the hall with his backpack slung over his shoulder and chest shoved out. She knew that he had to remind himself not to stare in the showers.

Until he was caught sneaking peeks. The team didn’t take too kindly to that. They cornered him underneath the bleachers one day after school, cracking their knuckles.  
  
_“What are you? Some kind of faggot?”_  
  
_His team captain looked on as he was shoved against a metal pole by his collar._  
  
_“What the hell are you doing?!”_  
  
_Carol ran over from the side of the bleachers. Her curly hair was tied up with a scarf. She slapped the arm that was holding Vincent away._  
  
_“Get your fucking hands off my boyfriend!”_  
  
_The jock dropped him and the team looked at each other, confused. All except for their captain._  
  
_“You better tell your boyfriend to stop looking at our dicks. Don’t think I won’t fuck up a girl.”_  
  
_Carol helped Vincent to his feet. “You’re a piece of shit. Get out of here before I get the principal.”_  
  
_“Good, I’ll teach that cocksucker too.”_  
  
_The rest of his team didn’t look so sure. They started filing away, and soon enough, so did the captain, but not before casting one last dark look at Vincent._  
  
_Vincent clutched a darkening bruise. Carol helped him get cleaned up. He quit the baseball team the next day._  
  
Boyfriend and girlfriend. That was the story they kept up for the entire school year. It kept the jocks away and they had genuine fun the more they spent time together. There were ice skates on the pond and swing sets on the playground as the sun went down. That was the first year Vincent received a Valentine. Carol’s friends slipped her condoms. The most they ever did was hold hands when they walked home from school. Vincent was pretty good at acting the part.  
  
Vincent met Tom at the start of summer break. Tom was a transfer student and handsome, with chestnut hair and a defined jaw and cheeks that still had traces of baby fat. He was a violin prodigy, which gave him great fingers, which Vincent would come to find out. Tom performed in concerts at the bandshell in the park on Sunday evenings, which both Vincent and Carol liked to attend. Vincent was enamored – not just with the music. Apparently, Carol saw something in his face, longing perhaps. She introduced them since her father worked with Tom’s now.  
  
Vincent gave him a tour of the town and bought them malt shakes. In return, Tom let Vincent hear him practice the violin. One night, they shared a joint and Tom showed him what it was like to kiss a man.  
  
Vincent told Carol, not wanting it to seem like he had a dirty secret. Carol kissed his cheek and gave him the condoms she had collected, saying he was the sweetest guy she had ever not-dated.  
  
The summer passed like a dream, but then Tom transferred again their junior year to play with a state orchestra. The last time he kissed Vincent was behind his house in the rain. Carol took Vincent to the swing set again and let him cry. She filled his weeks with dancing and walks to help him forget.  
  
At some point, Vincent realized he loved her.  He vowed to make her happy.  
  
At least marrying her didn’t get him a knife in the gut.  
  
All of this was probably the reason she was sitting across from him now, with their baby daughter sleeping upstairs. Carol was gazing out the window next to the table, her coffee getting cold.  
  
“Tell me more about him,” she said.  
  
Vincent fidgeted a little. “He plays the banjo very well. He’s also suspiciously good at arcade games. He…has a wife and a child. Linda and Alex.”  
  
Carol raised her eyes to him, questioningly.  
  
“It doesn’t really matter. He hates me now. I don’t blame him,” Vincent said.  
  
She considered this for a long moment. “Do you love him?”  
  
“…I have no idea,” Vincent said, honestly.  
  
“More than me?”  
  
Something cold squeezed his heart. “Carol…! I couldn’t love anyone more than you.”  
  
She didn’t smile, only looked wistful.  
  
“I don’t want to see you hurt, Vincent. Inside or outside your job,” she said.  
  
Her hand laid on the table. Vincent slowly took it in his warm one.  
  
“I don’t want to see you hurt, either,” he said.  
  
“Bring him here when he’s free. I want to hear him talk,” she said. “More than congratulating us for our baby.”  
  
Vincent looked down. “I doubt he’ll want to go anywhere with me.”  
  
“You brought him with you after I gave birth even though he was an escaped convict. He was special to you. He won’t hate you forever,” she said.  
  
Vincent felt pain tingling behind his eyes, the beginning of tears. “I love you so much.”  
  
Carol used her free hand to smooth an errant bang from his forehead. He took that hand in his free one and kissed her knuckles. As he did so, there was a tiny cry from the second floor. He followed Carol up the stairs and watched her swaddle Julie and lift her up. Vincent gave her a pacifier to suckle and she calmed down.  
  
“I’m going to need a rifle to keep the boys away from our door when she’s older,” he said.  
  
Carol smiled, this time happier. With the sound of Julie’s mobile turning from the wind coming through the open window, Vincent leaned down to kiss her. They let it linger.  
  
It was early afternoon when Vincent climbed back into his car. He peered up at the townhouse to find Carol watching him through the window with Julie. He let his hand press against the glass and, after a pause, so did Carol, before he drove away.

* * *

A flock of seagulls fed on the rocks by the road as the medical car aimed at Haven Ridge drove by. Leo could see their beady eyes watching him through the window. He flipped them off. Damn flying sea rats. The guard sitting with him ignored it. Good on him.

Haven Ridge sliced through a coastal mountain southwest of San Jose. There was only one road in or out and there was only ever a handful of vehicles that traversed it. Here, the wind carried salt spray and rocks were coated in moss all year round. The stone walls of Mallhaven came into view not long after, like a fortress embedded into the ridge. To one side was a sheer cliff that dropped away into the ocean. Leo sank into his cot, anger and unease churning inside.

The car stopped in front of an iron fence and a couple of guards spoke to the driver. They stepped back and the gate creaked open, disappearing into a slot in the mountain. Way to make a guy feel welcome. At least they didn’t expect him to walk a long distance yet. Up close, the rock walls of the prison were moss-covered too. The car went to a side entrance where the guards loaded him onto a gurney and took him through a heavy door. A nurse asked him questions and jotted down the answers onto a clipboard. They used the lamps on the walls that were used in mine tunnels. Was this place a fucking dungeon? Leo stole a diamond, he didn’t kill the president!

The infirmary was a _little_ better. There were thicker mattresses on the cots and saline bags hooked up to IV poles. The windows even had glass instead of just being holes in the wall. The physicians looked at the bullet wound on his leg and redid the dressing. The skin was puckered pink and ugly, but it was healing without infection so far. They inspected his head and his nose, which no longer required medical tape to keep it set. He was past the point of worrying about dying in his sleep because of a concussion. They would keep him in the infirmary for the night for observation and then take him to his cell in the morning. He’d be brought back for check-ups in the future. By the end of it, he had been poked and prodded enough to no longer feel human and just wanted to be left alone. Damn Vincent.

Across the room, another patient was watching them work. Each bed had white curtains to pull around them, but both of theirs were pulled back. His eyes were bloodshot and Leo could see him shaking. He was either high or withdrawn. Leo wondered where he got the goods. Maybe they traded it with the guards in here.

Wait, he was supposed to be investigating this, right? He was some kinda spy for the cops now. Just like Vincent. The chief of police and county sheriff told him he would be contacted within the prison with further instructions, but didn’t elaborate how or why. And just like that, they threw him to the wolves. Sons of bitches.

Normally, he would have ignored the other inmate or told him off for staring at him, but he figured this Burn Out would be a good place to start.

When the nurses were gone, he cleared his throat. “Uh…hey. How you doin’?”

The inmate grinned at him. “You’re new.”

“Yep,” Leo said.

“Wha-at happened to you?”

“What? This?” Leo gestured to his bandages. “Tried to take out a Narc. I beat the shit out of him but he got the best of me.”

“Heh. What’d he do?”

“Long story. None of your business,” Leo said. “You know where I can get a hit?”

The inmate barked a laugh that was too loud. Someone at the far end of the room shouted, “Shut the fuck up!” to which he replied. “You shut up, commie!” He smiled at Leo lazily. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I got hit by a door.”

“Uh-huh,” Leo said, now disinterested. He laid his head back on his pillow and sighed.

“Don’t ask the red eyes. You’ll get your throat slashed,” he said.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Leo said. Well, since just asking wouldn’t seem to get him anywhere, he wouldn’t mind poking around when he recovered. The police knew how to interrogate people. That was also when they had the upper hand in a blank room and their perp didn’t have a weapon. Leo knew that all too well. He couldn’t go shoving people around demanding answers. This needed a slower approach and that annoyed him. He didn’t like wasting time, it made him restless. But he _wanted that parole_. If he could just see Linda and Alex again…it would make all this shit worth it.

The rest of his day was spent listening to the other patients bicker at each other and dozing off, trying not to think of the sheer cliffs which, by his calculations, were right behind his head. How old was this place? Lord only knew how long it had been since those rocks were laid. There was no reason they wouldn’t just…fall and take him with them. Vincent would have told him he was being paranoid. Well, fuck what Vincent said.

A nurse gave him some kind of drink to help him sleep (names and brands never stuck to his memory so much as the 'sleeping' part). He dropped off soon after.

* * *

_His shoes were off and his shirt was getting flecked with raindrops, but he couldn't care less. The pines towered above him and the grass was lush between his toes after months of concrete floors and sand. He lifted his face and breathed in deep, more than he thought his lungs could hold._

_Freedom._

_Vincent was teaching Alex to ride a bear. Alex was thrilled and laughing. Leo's heart was so full he thought it would burst. And Vincent! When he smiled like that, the tired lines on his face smoothed and he looked ten years younger._

_The bear wandered into a patch of wild grass with Alex whooping and hollering on its back. Leo went over to Vincent, who turned to him, his face practically glowing. He put his forehead on Leo's shoulder, his own shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. And Leo was glad, so glad that_ **_it_ ** _was all a lie._

* * *

 Except when his eyes opened, the infirmary was now dark and he was groggy. He was most definitely not free and Vincent was still...

He slammed his fist on his bedside table.

"Pipe down!" came a voice from across the room.

For once, Leo bit his tongue.


	3. That Night in the Car

They tossed a blanket onto the sand in the desert, right off of a truck stop. They were the only ones out there, the road lamp flickering every so often. They had parked behind a large shrub that burst through cracks in the cement and made itself a little crater. It was the closest thing to hidden they were going to get and they desperately needed sleep. Fleeing the hospital had taken a lot out of them. Getting a motel so soon after the police were alerted to their presence in the area was too risky. It was either sleeping in the car or sleeping under the stars.

Balling up their jackets to use as pillows, they watched the sunset while they ate a batch of snacks they grabbed from the convenience store robbery. Leo was bemoaning not having something to drink when Vincent revealed a bottle of scotch.

"When did you swipe that?" Leo said, chuckling eagerly.

Vincent shrugged. "Put it in the piles of money, what else?"

"You're a smartass. Open it up, I'm dying over here," Leo said.

They didn't have any cups, so they just passed the bottle between them as a tapestry of orange and purple across the sky darkened into indigo. Leo settled back and gazed up at the smattering of stars. Outside of the glow of the city on the night sky, they were beautiful. You could see so much more. He lifted up a finger and traced a line along the Big Spoon...Big Dipper...whatever the hell it was. The scotch was going through him in warm waves despite the cooling night air. His chest was filled with a fuzzy warmth.

Vincent took the bottle from Leo's hand and took another gulp. Leo watched him do it, strangely fascinated by the bobbing of Vincent's Adam's Apple. Wasn't drinking from the same pitcher like an indirect kiss? He absent-mindedly licked his lower lip at the thought and then snickered.

Vincent lowered the bottle and looked at him. There was a pinkish tinge to his cheeks underneath his beard. "And what is so funny?"

"Nothing, god, nothing. Just, uh...thinking," Leo said.

"Don't hurt your head, now," Vincent said, which got him a playful punch on the arm.

Any thoughts about their plane ride or subsequent mission were fading away...well, almost. Leo felt a strange mixture of restlessness and calm due to the sweet alcohol running through his limbs. They could die. They could tear Harvey a new one. That'd be spectacular. He would tell Linda all about it.

Thinking of her name killed some of his joy. Would he see her again? If he did, he'd grab her and swing her around just to make her laugh, just like he used to. Then he'd do the same to Alex.

If he didn't come back...maybe Vincent could tell them for Leo. Then, they'd at least get some closure.

Welp, now his mood was ruined. He laid there in a haze, just breathing, his eyes closed, before his stomach nagged him. What he wouldn't give for a juicy steak. As it was, all he had was steak crackers and almonds, all of which were on Vincent's other side. From the looks of Vincent, he was well on his way to sleep. Leo couldn't find it in him to disturb the guy just to hand him some food.

He propped himself up on his elbow and leaned over Vincent so he could sort through the bags. It wasn't long before there was a stir beneath him. He glanced down to find Vincent peering up at him in confusion and a little surprise.

"What are you doing?" he said.

"Getting some nuts, what do you think?" Leo said, feeling irritated for some reason.

When Vincent snorted, Leo frowned down at him. Vincent was deteriorating into a giggle. 

"The hell're you laughing at?" he said.

"Which nuts are you getting?" Vincent said, between laughs.

"I dunno...pistachios or almonds. I didn't see which..." Then he got it. Heat rushed to his face and he wanted to believe it was from the drink. He was caught snickering, trying to muffle it since he didn't want to cut through the desert silence, yet it was hard enough that his arms shook and he dipped a little. "You're, hah...a dirty old man."

It took him a moment to recover and when he did, he panted and looked down at Vincent. Here Leo was, just about on top of him, and Vincent hadn't pushed him away. In fact, he was staring at Leo with the kind of dark eyes that held hunger. Well, that wasn't new. Leo had caught Vincent looking him over before. At first, he thought he was sizing him up for something, like a threat to be dealt with. Now, he was certain that wasn't the case.

Then again, Leo couldn't fault him. Not when he had done his fair share of sneaking peeks at Vincent. At some point, whatever they had between them had changed, whether it be a bond, friendship or the constant pressure of survival. In fact, maybe it was the dependence they had on each other that had solidified their relationship from distrust to whatever _this_ was.

It didn't hurt that Vincent was easy on the eyes. Handsome fuck.

Long ago, Linda and he had made an agreement. They were together for life, ride or die, blazing a trail of glory through Heaven and Earth. They'd be the other's rock against the storms. But when Leo was sent to prison for this crime or that, they knew there would be long stretches where they wouldn't be able to touch or hold one another. That was when he told Linda she was free to do what she had to do to take care of herself. He didn't care, he'd be there when he was released if she needed him. She told him to do the same.

Leo and Vincent reached for each other at the same time. Vincent put his arm around Leo's shoulders to guide him down and Leo met him halfway. There was a brush of lips at first before they sank into it, experimenting, feeling the tug of soft skin. There was a soft sound at the back of Leo's throat as he set his hands on Vincent's cheeks, the snacks forgotten. He was suddenly very much distracted from his appetite.

The rustling of clothes and the slight, wet sounds of mouth against mouth filled Leo's senses. He could smell the heady scent of musk and heated desert clay on Vincent. Warmth filled his belly. God, but he wanted this to last. This closeness to another person was something his body had craved. Who better to sate it with than with the person who had saved his life and whose life he'd saved multiple times.

They separated for a moment to breathe. Leo set his forehead on Vincent's and giggled. "You know, I never kissed anyone with facial hair before, but it’s not as bad as I thought it would be."

Vincent chucked. "Did you expect it to rub you raw?"

"Nah, I just thought it would be itchier," Leo said.

"Just turn your head away if you have to sneeze," Vincent said, making them both chuckle. Vincent's arms were an anchor around Leo's waist. Leo's head was swimming. He kissed the sides of Vincent's mouth and then his lips, his nose bumping Vincent's. It was all so new, so heady. He wanted to see more of Vincent. It felt like this was a gift being granted to them, a few short hours before they were going to be plunged into chaos in the jungle. He didn't want to spend what could be his last night shivering with cold.

"We should go back to the car," Vincent said.

Leo pulled back a little, with some disappointment.

"I don't want us to get caught out here," Vincent said. "Besides, my back feels stiff on the ground."

"Remind me not to get old," Leo said. They rose and collected what they wanted from the ground, returning it to the trunk. Just as Leo was about to get in the passenger's side of the car, Vincent put a hand on his shoulder and nudged him towards the backseat. Leo went in, laying on his back. Vincent followed, settling in close. Since Leo was a bit taller, he had to bend his knees. The plus side was that Vincent could then lay down between them, which brought them chest-to-chest. Leo made a soft groan when their pelvises aligned.

"Jesus, Vincent," he said. It was a tight fit and a little awkward when the door was shut, but somehow he didn't want it any other way. A motel bed would have been more comfortable, but this felt more primal, secretive, time that they were stealing together from a world that wanted them dead.

He wanted Vincent's hands on him. He squirmed a bit, working the hem of his shirt up and over his head. Vincent helped him with the last bit before tossing it into the front seat. Leo was only too happy to return the favor. Of course, they'd seen each other naked before - either in the prison showers or washing up in a creek in the woods. Looking at each other with the eyes of new and could-be brief lovers was different. Leo's fingertips were touched against Vincent's arms, the hair on his chest that tapered off into his pants.

Vincent clamped his mouth over Leo's, now more insistent. Leo opened his mouth to him, their tongues meeting and dancing together. One hand cradled the back of Vincent's head. The feel of warm skin sliding against skin was delicious. He could feel Vincent's heartbeat. He tipped back Vincent's head and nibbled down his jaw to his throat.

He felt Vincent's hand between them before he clasped him through his pants.

"Oh god," Leo said.

"Too much?"

"Hell, no. It's fucking good," Leo said. His hips were slowly grinding into Vincent's hand in response. "Just...ah...I dunno if we should go all the way. I don't know how effective I'll be running around tomorrow at Harvey's place if you stick your cock in me now. I'll be sore"

Vincent hummed and kissed him again. "We could always do it the other way if you'd like...but you're right, we should stick to this. This is fine."

Vincent's hand was heavy on him and Leo could feel himself react. Wanting to reciprocate, he groped around Vincent's inner thighs. He found Vincent getting hard and undid the belt and zipper of his pants to free him. Vincent gave throaty sounds when Leo's hand wrapped around him.

Leo kissed his jaw as he began to stroke. "Not bad."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Vincent said. He was working Leo's pants open as well. Leo's cock was already straining for him. Vincent's hand was rough. Pretty strong for a banker. He must work out on the weekends.  

Any other thoughts were drowned out by the heat between them. Vincent pressed his face to Leo's neck. Leo's free hand settled on the nape of Vincent's neck. There, in the darkness of the car, with steam collecting on the bottoms of the cool windows blotting out the lone streetlamp, they could make whatever sounds they wanted. Pleasure surged through Leo's veins when Vincent rubbed their pricks together and wrapped his hand around them both.   

"Ohhh, fuck, yeah...That's good," Leo whispered. All the tension and release of being on the run had collected into that moment. This was something they were taking for themselves, on top of every other freedom they'd snatched away. Leo wouldn't want it any other way. His hands wandered down the arch of Vincent's back to the globes of his ass and squeezed. Vincent grunted and lifted his face to kiss him roughly.

He wasn’t going to last much longer at this rate. His legs came up around Vincent’s waist.

“I’m...I’m gonna come,” he said with a low growl. “You...got something to catch it with? Don’t wanna make a damn mess all over us.”

“Hold on.” Vincent stopped rocking his hips for a moment and glanced around the back seat. At some point, a handkerchief had fallen out of Leo’s jacket, leftover from the old couple who had kindly lent them their clothes. Vincent snatched it up just when Leo was beginning to regret saying anything. He returned to Leo and picked the pace back up. Leo ran his hands up Vincent’s arms and down his chest to his belly.

“Fuck...fuck, yeah, that’s it,” Leo said. “Don’t stop.”

He clumsily toyed with one of Vincent’s nipples, eliciting a hiss.

“Goddamn, Leo. Leo!” Vincent fumbled with the handkerchief even as his other hand clasped them again. The touch sent Leo over the edge as he held onto Vincent’s shoulder, clamoring at his skin, his lips and teeth trying to take in as much of Vincent’s neck as he could. It felt like he was being torn through and Vincent was the only thinking holding him together with the hand over their cocks.

They came down breathing hard. Leo’s mind was blank other than registering the feel of cool air against the sheen of sweat on his skin. Vincent dropped the handkerchief into the backseat footwell and rested his head on Leo’s chest, lazily dropping a couple kisses there.

“You’re damn sexy when you wanna be, Vincent,” Leo said.

“Mm...comes with age,” Vincent said.

"Maybe getting old won't be so bad then," Leo said.

They refastened their pants and laid with each other in the backseat, sleeping for a while until their muscles had enough of being packed into the tight space and began to protest. It wasn't a full night's sleep, but they were refueled enough to drive the rest of the way to Emily's airfield.

Leo watched outside of the passenger's side window, rubbing his chin at the pitch black of an ungodly morning hour, casting out feelers into their future. Say they were to survive this, say they were able to evade the police. He could grow out his beard to avoid detection. They could go to South America and catch a flight to Italy if it came to it. He'd get Linda and Alex to come too. He and Vincent would be able to look after them both. They could set up shop overseas, change their names if they had to. He'd tell Linda how much Vincent had become to him and she'd be fine with it.

_But what about Carol_ , he wondered. What about Vincent's baby? Vincent had seemed so sure of his actions with Leo that they hadn't crossed his mind. Would Carol be willing to leave the country?

...Would she want to stay with Vincent after all this?

God, there were too many questions and Leo didn't like thinking. He needed to have steady hands for his shotgun. He peered at Vincent through the gloom. His face was impassive, focused as he was on the road. His right hand laid on the median between them. Leo reached over and took it in his own. Vincent glanced at him and gave a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Leo chalked it up to nerves.


	4. Ashes to Ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the continuing feedback! You guys CAN'T let me give up on this story! I've lost steam far too many times before! I want to see this one through to the end! 
> 
> These chapters are still a bit shorter than I would like, but I'm still working through writer's block to get them out. Bear with me!
> 
> Warnings for imagery in this chapter that includes burning alive.

After a few tests on his leg, it was determined that Leo could stand and move around enough to be taken to his cell. With the fresh dressing on his leg, the doc deemed it alright to spare him from a cleaning with the hose. That meant, however, getting a sponge bath from a stone-faced man in gray-tinted scrubs. Maybe he should have just requested the hose. It was the downside of not entering the prison the regular way.

They threw him into a prison uniform and a pair of guards escorted him through more dingy halls to cell block filled with the echoes of murmuring prisoners. The block was vast with legit stained-glass windows at either end, allowing multi-colored light to filter through where the lamps couldn’t reach. A good handful of men stuck their heads out of their cells to watch him as he walked by. 

Someone whistled. “New guy’s got a sweet ass! Come see me later. We’ll have us some fun!”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Keep your stiffy in your fucking pants!”

One of the guards shook him amidst laughs and catcalls. “Shut it, tough guy.”

So, what was new? The first few days in prison were always the same. Until the next new inmate came in, Leo was the fresh meat. The key to survival was to either keep a low profile or be the kind of over-the-top, chest-beating gorilla that picked fights with the top players to establish territory. For all of his bravado, Leo would always choose the former if given the choice. Being a gang leader in prison came with its own kind of baggage. He just wanted to survive.

He was taken up a spiral staircase to Cell 34. The room was stone and bare except for the cot held to the wall by chains (literal, fucking chains) and the toilet. He had a desk underneath a barred window. Spaced out on the floor and the walls were black marks. Curious, Leo scratched at a spot on the wall. It came off on his fingertips. He smelled it and, of course, tasted it absentmindedly. It was bitter.

Before the guard could disappear down the hall, Leo said, “What’s this shit?”

“It’s ash. You’re lucky it’s  _ not _ shit,” the guard said.

Ash? Leo rubbed it between his fingers. Now, there was a dark smear on his hand.

“Why the hell is there ash in my cell?” Leo said, but the guard had disappeared. He grunted and went to run water over the smear from the leaky tap in his sink.

He heard a knock on the other side of his cell wall.

"Hey, 34. You good?"

Leo frowned at the stones. "Yeah, sure. What'd'ya want?"

"It's cool, man. Just heard you talking 'bout the ash. I thought they cleaned it up."

Well, now his neighbor at least had his attention. 

"You know something about this?"

"Everybody does. The guy who was in that cell before you lit himself on fire in there," the inmate said.

"Wha-? Shit!" Leo jumped back, irritating his leg in the process, and scurried into the corner away from the dark marks. His mind was raced. A chill crept down his neck. "The fuck are you talking about?"

"Just what I said," the inmate said. "Must have been four months ago. They seriously didn't say nothin' to you?"

"No," Leo said. Damn it, did he just touch somebody's remains? Fuck, did he just TASTE somebody's remains? He wanted to puke. "Back it up. What happened?"

"I don't even know your name yet. I'm Schwib."

"Schwib. Great. I'm Leo. Now get on with it," he said. Was he being brash? Yes. But all things considered, he liked to think he had a good reason to be freaked out. He heard the sound of chains rattling as Schwib must have adjusted on his bed. 

"Well, like I said. It happened 'bout four months ago. I've been in here for five years. 34 was named Nick. He said he was in for arson," Schwib said. "He bragged all the time about burning down a courthouse. A bit fucked in the head, if you ask me."

"I can tell," Leo said. 

"He bragged about it  _ at first _ , anyway. He was in there for 'bout five months 'fore he turned hermit and shut himself up all day. I heard he traded with the guards to get lighters and shit. Bastard didn't even smoke. Just sat in his cell all day flicking the lighters on and off. Then when one ran out of juice, he got a new one."

Oh, perfect. The dead guy was crazy, too.

"Why the fuck did the guards let an arsonist have a lighter?" Leo said.

Schwib chuckled. "Made some good trades? Sucked some dicks? I dunno. He got a gallon of gasoline from somewhere the night he lit up. Dumped it all over his cell and himself."

Leo stepped over to his bed and sat down, feeling light-headed. He wondered if he could negotiate a cell change. He didn't need this hanging over his head while he was in this hellhole. That was probably asking too much, though. 

Wait, was the mattress burnt too?

He sprang to his feet, causing the world to spin. He just got out of the hospital. He wasn't supposed to be under this kind of stress.

"How much of this room got burnt? He didn't die on the bed, did he?" Leo said.

"Nah, I don't think so. He rattled against the bars and was screaming shit at the guards. I couldn’t understand him," Schwib said. "I woke up when everyone was crapping their pants. He started the fire in the middle of the night and the guards were fallin' over each other to evacuate the block. They dragged me to the doctor to make sure I wasn't fried. Not gonna lie, it was fucking hot. They were cleaning that cell for weeks. Pretty sure they replaced everything. You ever smell burnt skin and hair? Everyone was blowing chunks."

"Jesus Christ," Leo said. He paced around the cell, ignoring the various aches and pains in his body. "This is bullshit. This is bullshit." Panic was creeping into his voice.

"Hey, Leo. You alright, man? Shit, I probably shouldn't've told you all that right when you moved in. I was just curious. You're the first one they put in there since they cleaned up," Schwib said. 

The inmate on the other side of Leo said, "You aren't going to light yourself up now, are you? We don't need another one."

"Shut up! Just shut up," Leo said. 

"Calm down. Don't be a pussy."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Leo forced himself to think of something else. Linda, Alex. Their happy faces. Working on a race car under the tree house. Roasting marshmallows over a bonfire - NO, that didn’t help.

Vincent appeared in his mind’s eye. Vincent holding him steady between the steel beams holding up the bridge. 

He took a breath in through his nose and exhaled slowly through his mouth. Linda would hold him around his middle until his heartbeat slowed. Vincent would take him by the shoulders and look into his eyes to keep his focus. 

When he came back to earth, he was angry and slightly ashamed of his panic. 

“I’m fine. Get your head outta your ass,” he told the less-friendly neighbor.

Schwib laughed. “Get used to it. Everyone in the block will know your name by the end of the day. If you want to know more, I’ll tell you later. I shouldn’t have said so much.”

Leo sat down heavily at the desk, running his fingers through his hair and over his scalp. Which was preferable to be known as? The man who killed Harvey or the man who lived in the barbecued guy’s room? At least Nick wouldn’t have left enemies behind to come after Leo. He’d see if he could rub the rest of the ash from the walls later. The cleaners must have been fed up from scrubbing to leave them behind. 

He was certain of one thing. He could kiss keeping a low profile goodbye.

* * *

Warden Earle Price was a youthful man who loved his cigars. He had one tucked into his mouth when he came around with the guards for the nightly inspection. His eyes were as dark as his perfectly pressed suit. The Warden was a looker and he knew it. He couldn't have been much older than Leo, who didn't like the way those sharp eyes were roving over him as the guards patted him down.

"So, we finally get to have you to ourselves, Caruso," he said. "About damn time.  Sorry I couldn't bring you flowers for your hospital room. I had a prison to run." 

"I can see that," Leo said. "No offense, but this place is a medieval shithole."

Price grinned around his cigar. "You don't like its gothic charm? This used to be a fortress for the Confederates during the Civil War. Seemed a shame to just let it crumble."

"Thanks for the history lesson," Leo said. In the back of his head, he heard Vincent telling him to calm down.  _ Don't piss off the Warden before they could execute the plan _ . Whatever the plan was. 

One of the guards hit his bad thigh with his baton. Leo couldn't keep back a cry and he clutched at his leg. 

"Now, now, we want to welcome the newest member of our family here, don't we?" Price said. "Especially one that's still recovering."

Still, he didn't stoop down to ensure Leo was alright. The lamp on Leo's desk cast on ominous under glow on his face, like a bad horror movie. Leo straightened up. The guards joined Price by the bars. 

"You've been through prison before, Caruso. You know the drill. I won't waste your time with an orientation. Is that agreeable?" Price said.

Leo slowly straightened up. What were the chances he would be hit again if he responded? Wardens were usually sadistic pricks. They loved riding along on their egos in a place where they were kings. But there was something on Leo's mind, all the same.

"Yeah, sure. I've got something to ask you, though," Leo said.

Price's smile turned indulgent. "Shoot."

Alright, good sign. He hadn't been slapped flat on his back yet. 

"They tell me someone died in this cell. What's the story?" Leo said.

Price ashed his cigar where he stood, just inside of the bars. The dust fluttered to the stone floor. "Ah, I was hoping we weren't going to have to worry about explaining all that to you. But I guess loose lips sink ships. All you need to know is that the inmate was more unstable than we thought and we dealt with the mess he left behind."

"That's all? How did he get the gasoline? The lighters?" Leo said.

"There was an investigation. You can be assured it won't happen again," Price stated. It sounded more like a rehearsed press release.

"But you -"

"It's nothing you have to concern yourself with, Caruso," Price said. "As you can see, everything was tidied up, spick and span." He held his hands out to the cell.

"You're kidding me. Is this how they're running -" 

Price nodded to one of the guards. Leo saw stars as a baton slammed into his face. 

_ Stop it, Leo. Do you really think he won't kill you? _ Vincent said. 

Leo sucked on his lip to keep from spitting blood.

"Any other questions?" Price said, watching him patiently.

Leo gritted his teeth and shook his head. He had time to pry. It'd be a shame to die now after cheating death so many times.  

"Very good. See? It's just like you cleaning house in Mexico. Once you're settled in, I'm dying to hear the details of your excursion from your own mouth," Price said. "Police reports just don't have the same excitement."

Leo kept quiet. Price wanted to know his side of the story just as he wanted to know theirs. Specifically, he wanted to know what Vincent had told them. Leo wouldn't be surprised if Price had seen photos of Vincent too. Was it really a good idea to have him come here, even if he was undercover? If somebody recognized him, they were sunk. Yet, strangely, Leo had to admit having Vincent here would make him feel better. It was like having a friendly skunk in a den of wolves.

The guards and Price left him in peace as they moved on to the inmate in the next cell opposite of Schwib. Price ran his fingers across the bars as the gate slid shut. Leo felt some tension leech out of him. That guy was worse than Williams. He kicked the pile of ash left from Price's cigar into the hallway. 

* * *

The days were as cold as the nights in that place. Leo learned fast where the furnaces carried warmth throughout the halls and where the salty winds from the sea loved to whistle through the roughly hewn stone. If the differences gave him a headache, he was usually able to gripe at the infirmary for some pills.

Schwib was right. Within days, every inmate knew his name. He was Leo, Number 34, the guy who moved into the cell with the portal to hell,  _ Cinderella _ . It was annoying, sure, but he soon realized that the name-calling was a lot better than having Harvey's men jump at his throat at every opportunity. All he had to do was put on his tough-guy face and people left him alone. If he didn't, he was fresh meat for the prison gangs and he had no interest in joining any cliques. You had to be strong to be a lone wolf, but Leo handled himself well.

Prison life never changed. The setting did, but the rules didn't. Keep your eyes and ears open and your head down. Don't make enemies. 

He would rather be at home, with Linda and Alex. In a perfect world, he'd be in Trinidad with the both of them, right then. He hoped to God Linda would come visit him soon. Mallhaven was as cheery as a graveyard. 

On the plus side, Leo and the former Nick were only a couple in a long line of prison urban legends. There was the guy that jumped from the watchtower when he got Dear Johned by his girlfriend a year into his sentence. There were the sharks said to live in the sewer system. The moans from Confederate ghosts in the laundry room that used to be the old hospital wing of the fortress. 

When he wasn't competing with the ocean in the level of saltiness towards his current situation, Leo had to admit listening to prison gossip was fun. 

After a week and a half, he began to look around in a new light. Where were the undercover suits? The ones who were supposed to be investigating this place. He couldn't very well go up to a guard and ask if they were an informant or not. He was still waiting for them to come to him. Leo hated waiting. It made him restless. He spent a lot of time throwing loose pebbles at the dark marks in his cell. 

One night, rain battered against the windows. He was wrapped up in his blanket, trying to count sheep until he could get to sleep. The sheep were fired out of cannons over a fence. Once he got to 300, he gave up and paced his cell, rubbing his arms and cursing the stonework for not having more insulation. Save for the laps along the catwalks in the cell block, it was pitch dark. He wasn't sure if he could see his own breath or if the curly wisps in front of his eyes were his imagination.

He stopped and stared up at the window for a time when a light shone through the cars and lingered. Leo waited until the guard continued on, but they never did.

"You got a problem?" he said, irritably.

"Go to sleep, inmate."

Fuck. That  _ voice _ .

Leo whipped around and stomped up to the bars. 

" _ Where the hell have you been? _ " he hissed.

Vincent pressed a finger to his lips and shut off his flashlight. Leo could barely see his face. He was wearing the same navy blue suit and cap as the other guards. It looked strange on him. Not that the suit didn't fit well. The fabric clung to his form in all the right places, showing off enough muscle to make him a stocky threat up against the prisoners. It was just strange seeing him on  _ their _ side; with a badge instead of a number. 

He'd shaved his goatee. Leo sneered.

"Nice 'stache. Looks real prim and proper," he said.

Vincent ran a hand over his lip worm. He kept his voice below a whisper and pressed in close. "We had some details to iron out at the precinct. I'm stationed here now until this is over."

"This place is nuts. I'm in the fucking barbecued guy's cell, Vincent," Leo said.

Through the darkness, he saw the flicker of confusion that crossed Vincent's face.

"What are you talking about?"

"My cell! The guy who was here set himself on fire!" Leo said, gesturing behind him. "Just ask the Warden. Why couldn't you have put me in a normal cell?"

"We didn't have any control over that. It was Price's decision," Vincent said.

"Sure, whatever," Leo said. "What's the word? What do they want me to do? I'm getting bored in here."

"Keep to business as usual," Vincent said. He was glancing down both ends of the catwalk. "We're mapping out the place on our end. You just talk to the prisoners. There are things they won't say to us. You know that."

"Yeah...I know that," Leo said, a dark edge creeping into his tone. He inched backward. "I know all about sharing secrets with another inmate."

Vincent's eyes returned to him and he fell silent for a moment. His lips parted, hesitating, and then he cleared his throat. "I'll be around, Leo. I told you I'd stay with you and I meant it. Tell me if you find anything. I have to go."

"Yep, night, Vincent," Leo said.

"Val."

"What?" Leo narrowed his eyes at him.

"Call me Val in here."

Leo tried to stifle a laugh, one that held no joy. " _ Val _ ? Seriously? You never bothered giving yourself an alias the entire time you were with me."

Vincent sighed. "This is different."

"'Course it is." Leo went to lay back down. He didn't say anything more to Vincent, who walked off with footsteps echoing along the catwalk a moment later.


End file.
